Read My Lips
by Terry Griffiths
Summary: She is the world's best spy. He is a soldier - one of the world's most dangerous assassins. She is a pauper (who's risen to the top, but still.) He is a prince (who's lost his throne, but still.) She is here (in all her redheaded glory) to destroy him. He (with his utterly blonde head) has no idea. She feels something. He feels it too. They are both oh so very screwed.


**Hey everyone!~ So I, Author-san, have decided to write this first chapter a bit differently than with my other stories. It'll be a lot more organized, mainly so that I don't get lost while writing it. Hope you have fun reading! Ah, I adore my M.M. muse. 3 **

**FUN FACT: I hated her at first, since my first muse was Chrome, but then...Chrome!muse and M.M.!muse kind of grew on each other and now, they braid each other's hair and M.M. takes Chrome out shopping and they cook together, etc. It's the best thing. AND M.M. is now one of my favorite muses to have!~ And to think that I never would have taken on the muse if it wasn't for my awkward gang of Varia Host Club friends. Gotta love that rp-ing family. Thanks, guys!**

**~Yours, Terry**

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**PILOT CHAPTER**

Chapter 1: Her Mission

Series of Previews, Prelude, and Plot Set-up

**PREVIEW #1**

When M.M.—master spy and even more talented thief—decided to steal the crown off of her favorite Varia assassin's head, she didn't realize what exactly such an act would entail.

For one thing, who would have guessed that the redhead's very blonde acquaintance would turn into more than an acquaintance? I can only say this for now: She was bored. He was bored. Somewhere within that black hole of boredom, they had both become something more to each other than either of them had bargained for.

**PREVIEW #2**

Read my lips, not my heart. Please don't read my heart. Because my heart is saying really stupid things right now like "Don't read my lips. Kiss them." See? Stupid, right? Because there is no way that I would ever fall for you. No matter how good of a pianist you are. No matter how much money you have. No matter how much I want you. Because I'm here to destroy you.

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**PRELUDE**

"You must find out which country the Bloody Prince rules over."

That was the command that she was given in a contract worth over thirty billion dollars. She hadn't hesitated to sign it, of course. It didn't matter that she knew that the world would be thrown into chaos if this little tidbit of information was revealed to it. It didn't matter that she might be unleashing a rabid monster on the world. All that mattered was the check she was getting—an advanced payment of twenty million sent straight to her Swiss bank account and a three million bonus for taking the offer as quickly as she had.

Though her contractor was anonymous, with her connections, M.M. would have been able to find out who he/she was within seconds, had she so desired. Since she didn't desire it, the freelance spy received a five million bonus. Serves to say, she liked this contractor. He/she paid even better than Mukuro-chan, one of her old contractors.

"Time to fly.~" M.M. was _the_ most talented spy on the planet and whatever information she needed, whether it was the identity of the last visitor of a bank in Alaska or the food that a crime lord had eaten first thing that morning—she could acquire it all within seconds.

So when she called her old friend Sam (Samuel A. Merelin, blood type A, six feet one inches tall, forty kilograms—the information, once it was in her head, wouldn't be forgotten for a long time as long as she revisited it*) from the UK and asked for the location of Belphegor, otherwise known as Prince the Ripper, she had gotten it.

_Ireland, here I come._

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*M.M. had gotten that information when she had met Sam for the first time during her time working Interpol through the CIA. Though he knew that she wasn't on the same side as she was when he last worked with her, he also knew that he owed her a lot of favors, and more importantly, like the good guy that he was, he still thought of her as one of his friends. Sam is around five years older than M.M. and he's the go-to man for Mafioso information, mainly when the famiglia is European. There isn't even a criminal information broker better than him (other than M.M., of course.) To be honest, M.M. could've gotten this information too (she had eyes everywhere) with a minute more of phone calls, but Sam would always be the easiest path to info like this. After all, he had connections with every camera in Europe.

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**PLOT SET-UP**

The redhead landed at around four o'clock, touching base in Waterford before taking a taxi to a small town one over, right in time for the silent auction that the Bloody Prince was to be attending. Giving her personal jet's designated pilot and her personal-chauffeur a quick "Thanks, Lennie, George,* *you guys're the best!" she pushed open the fancy mahogany doors and entered the thankfully much warmer foyer of the castle.

Ireland was littered with castles, but this one—this one was special.

_This one has an actual prince on the premises._

M.M. cracked a smile before reading the Gaelic signs posted on the walls and making her way to the bathroom. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her chic fur coat and felt the photo that lay snug in between her gun and her switchblade, before completely taking off her coat in the safety of the ladies' room. As much as people loved a French woman in a business suit, the people who would be attending this particular auction were a lot more traditional. This was a silent auction. They would expect someone classy, someone mature, and most importantly, someone Irish.

Changing into a pretty red semi-formal one-shoulder piece, M.M. twisted her head into a quick bun at the side of her head, teasing a single curl out to brush her shoulder.*** Adding just a hint of lipstick to her lips and dusting her cheeks with a hint of blush, M.M. added the final touches to her outfit by strapping that gun from earlier underneath her dress to her thigh and hiding the switchblade in the loose ribbon that tied her dress together.

Feeling bad-arse and ready to face her target, M.M. strode into the ball room like she was empress of the world.

Almost instantly, her heart felt the jolt.

She wondered—had someone just used a defibrillator on her heart? Because she felt positively electrified.

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** Lennie and George did not magically appear to her waiting to be hired together. M.M. was just forced into reading some American literature when one of her covers was that of a struggling high school student and she found _Of Mice and Men_ by John Steinbeck the funniest thing ever. So as a tribute to that experience, when she decided to spend some money on a private jet, she hired her own pilots and drivers, purposefully picking out two aspiring individuals who happened to have that name combination.

***Though in the anime, M.M. is seen with short hair both during present time and ten years in the future, she's a spy who values fashion. She's not going to keep the same haircut throughout. She grows her hair out and cuts it depending on how she feels and what's in style. So right now, her hair is more or less longish.

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**What is this mystical, magical jolt that M.M. is feeling in her heart, one might ask? Read the next chapter to find out!~ (Surprisingly, she's not the only one feeling it, if you catch my drift.)**

**~ Yours, Terry**


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